


You Promised Me a Love

by zeropercent (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bloodplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-26
Updated: 2011-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-28 04:40:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/303822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/zeropercent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Dean’s baby brother is not a monster.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	You Promised Me a Love

Dean’s baby brother is _not_ a monster. He’s not. No matter what happens to him, he is not a monster, not even close to the evil creatures that they kill on a daily basis.

He really doesn’t know what happened this time. It’s weird. Like, weirder than usual. Sam’s under a spell that makes him crave human blood. He doesn’t have fangs so he’s not a vampire; the term itself is a joke to Dean. They spoke with Bobby, and he said there’s nothing they can do but wait it out. And he told Dean not to let Sam out of his sight, as if he would actually let Sam do something on his own in this state.

Sam fists his hands in his hair, leaning over on the edge of the bed. “Dean, I can’t fight it.” It hurts, like something inside of him is trying to claw its way out.

“Sam.” Sam looks up and sees Dean pulling his shirt off, tossing it to the floor and spreading his arms, “Come on.”

“Dean, I’m not—”

“Listen to me, Sam. If you need blood, you’re going to take it from me. Not some innocent civilian.” Dean grabs a knife off the table, waving it around. “And before you start bitching, I know you won’t hurt me. So?” He takes the blade and slides it lightly along his shoulder, blood trickling down his chest. The hunger in Sam’s eyes seems to intensify and Dean notices something change in him.

Sam’s breathing quickens and he stands up, shoving Dean onto the bed with incredible force. “God dammit, Dean.” He could smell him before, hear his heart beating in his ears. But this is a whole new level. Sam buries his face into the crook of Dean’s neck, inhaling before trailing his mouth over the fresh cut. He laps at the wound, collecting blood on the tip of his tongue.

Dean arches up against him and Sam growls, stealing the knife from his hand. He makes a deep incision next to the light one and sucks hard, warm liquid flooding into his mouth. Sam feels so light, the taste of Dean’s blood better than any drug. “Dean?”

“Shh, Sammy.” He places his hand on the back of Sam’s head, giving him permission to continue. “You’ll be okay. It’s just a spell, remember? It’ll wear off.”

Sam’s grinding his hips down, practically riding Dean’s thigh, his cock hard in his jeans. Dean can feel a familiar warmth pool in his belly, arousal quickly taking over.

Sam licks the cut, trying to get as much blood as he can. He pants against Dean’s neck, “I’m so thirsty, Dean.”

Feeling a pang of sympathy for his brother, Dean mumbles, “I know.” He removes Sam’s shirt and hooks his arms around his neck.

Sam can hear Dean’s pulse, blood rushing through his veins. He sucks marks into Dean’s neck, reaching down and unbuckling his belt. He shoves his pants around his thighs, wrapping his hand around Dean’s cock. Sam keeps sucking the blood from Dean’s shoulder, flicking his wrist. He runs his thumb through the precome sliding down Dean’s dick, making Dean raise his hips.

“Sammy.”

With Dean under him like this, writhing and compliant, Sam’s throbbing in his jeans. Sam quickly gets rid of his pants, leaving both of them naked. It’s not often they get to do this, so Sam’s going to savor it.

And Sam thinks it’s probably because of the spell, but Dean tastes amazing. He slides down and takes Dean into his mouth, tonguing the slit. He takes Dean deep and Dean shoves his hands into his hair, twisting the strands in his grip. Sam feels precome leak onto his tongue and he moans loudly, sending the vibrations rippling through Dean.

“Sammy,” Dean’s hips snap up involuntarily, “fuck.” Sam looks up at Dean through his eyelashes, sliding his hands along Dean’s thighs. “You know what, come up here.”

Dean groans at the feel of Sam’s dick sliding against his own. And it’s even better when Sam reaches down and wraps his hand around both of their cocks. Dean whimpers and thrusts up into Sam’s fist, tight and hot. Sam breathes out, “Yeah. Shit.” He pants against Dean’s jaw, swiping his thumb over the head of Dean’s dick. “Wanna fuck you, Dean.”

Dean says, “Yeah, Sammy, c’mon.”

Sam sits up and slicks his fingers with spit, parting Dean’s legs a bit further. He slips two fingers into Dean at once. They’ve done this enough times for Sam to know he can take it. He twists his wrist and Dean throws his head back, groaning.

Sam pulls his fingers out, positioning himself and pushing in.

Dean clenches his jaw, feeling a bit of pain. He averts his gaze to Sam, noticing the crazed look in his eyes. Dean manages to ask, “Do you need more?” Sam’s practically lying in top of him now and Dean runs his fingers through his hair.

Sam shakes his head and rolls his hips, “Just you. Need you.” He’s going at an even pace, panting against Dean’s neck. Dean lifts his hips to meet Sam’s thrusts, tugging on Sam’s shaggy hair. He wraps his legs around Sam’s waist, pulling him closer.

“Dean. Oh god, Dean.”

“It’s alright, Sammy. Let go.”

Sam loses himself in Dean, breathing in his scent and bringing himself closer to the edge.

Dean comes first, the feel of Sam’s skin rubbing against his own being too much for him to take. He gasps and tightens his fingers in Sam’s hair, “Sammy.”

Sam follows, shaking against Dean and letting out a choked sob. He waits a moment before rolling off of Dean, facing him and smiling weakly. He asks, “It’s okay, right?”

“Of course. It’s always okay.” Dean gazes at his little brother, brushing his hair away from his face, “Get some rest.”

“Will it be gone in the morning?” Sam looks at him, all puppy dog eyes and pouty lips.

“I’m not sure, Sam. You need sleep.”

“Promise me you’ll get some sleep, too.”

Dean can’t promise that. He needs to watch Sam, needs to make sure nothing happens to him. He shakes his head, not being able to promise something that he might not go through with. Sam sighs and presses his lips to Dean’s cheek, mentally wishing that Dean would care for himself a bit more.

“G’night, Dean.”

“Good night, Sammy.”


End file.
